Gumnut's Angel Ficlet Collection
by Gumnut
Summary: A collection of ficlets not long enough to warrant their own story space. Some may contain spoilers for any season. Includes answers to challenges.
1. Her eyes

Spoilers for Season 5.

Her eyes  
By Gumnut  
17 Apr 2006

I look into her eyes.

A cool night, far above the city. She is talking, curious, her voice as melodious as ever, a sweet song I loved to listen to, whether she knew it or not. Numbers and symbols once tripping over her tongue, most of which I understood little, but was willing to bear just to hear her speak.

Music is in the ear of the audience.

I look into her eyes.

She always had a crazy reverence for life, an energy, a spark that never dimmed. A slight young woman, a wisp of a girl instilled with a strength stronger than all of us. She fought with quiet dignity, giving the world what she could even when it gave nothing back.

Alcohol burns.

I look into her eyes.

And I see what was. I see love and possibilities. Hope to draw me from the ever-spinning depths of despair. Something to cling to, someone to love, to cherish, to hold in the darkness, to protect, and to perhaps even seek love in return.

Dreams tease to be fulfilled.

I look into her eyes.

And I see the past. Others who've looked into those depths. Harm. Horrors. Happiness. Sweet memories and innocence stolen. She needed protection, yet I found myself protected by her. Even in her disappointment and scorn.

Love hurts.

I look into her eyes.

They were brown, a hint of amber, clear, full of promise and laughter. They were always smiling, always happy in their own way, even in the darkest of moments, even when she called out to me, pleaded with me…

Begged to stay.

I look into her eyes.

And I see poetry. Ironic tragedy and despair. I see hope shattered. I see pain and the tantalising lure of what might have been, but will never be. I see anger. I see hurt.

I see little more than a reflection of myself.

Ice is cold.

Because when I look into her eyes…

She is no longer there.

-o-o-o-


	2. A scene with Wesley and Gunn

A scene with Wesley and Gunn  
By Gumnut  
15 May 2006

"Aw, man. Next time I'm wearin' something waterproof."

"I did warn you."

"Warn me, yeah, but _warn_ me? I don't think so."

"If you had followed my instructions there would never have been a problem."

"I did. It was your instructions that were wrong."

"I find that highly unlikely. My interpretation was clear and the execution was a simple thing."

"Tell that to my tailor." Gunn wiped liquid off his shirt, flinging droplets across the floor.

"You don't have a tailor."

"And how do you know that? I might have a tailor." He straightened his shirt.

Wesley just looked at him. "I don't have a tailor. You don't have a tailor."

"And that explains a lot."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"Work it out, man. You've got mothballs in your tweed."

"I do not wear tweed."

"If you say so." Gunn stared at the mess they'd made and sighed. "I guess we'd better clean up."

Wesley muttered something under his breath.

"If you're sayin' what I'm hearin', you can clean this mess up by yourself."

"Me? It was your axe that that did this."

Gunn shrugged. "What can I say? I like my axe. He felt like playing."

Wesley stared at him again, vaguely wondering if the man had been hit about the head one too many times recently. "You can do one job without it, you know. Might make just a smidgen less mess. Particularly when you lose your temper."

"I did not lose my temper."

"Yes, you did. Look at it."

"Hey, I wasn't the one hitting it with a book and screamin' who knows what. For a moment there I thought you might bring the building down on us."

"It was a simple success incantation, that's all."

"Well, you musta missed a vowel or somethin', 'cause it didn't work."

"That much is a apparent. Thank you for pointing it out repeatedly."

"You're welcome. Now can we get this cleaned up before Cordy sees it? I can't see her incantations of hell and damnation failing once she sees it."

"Quite right."

"Yes, I'd have to agree."

Wesley looked up to find the object of their abject terror standing in the doorway. "Cordelia?"

"Uh, ye-ah." State the obvious. Her arms were crossed and her expression dangerous. "What have you done to the water cooler?"

"Uh…" He looked down at the mangled plastic remains at their feet and words failed him.

"We were just assembling it for you and, uh, Wesley got a little impatient-"

"I did?! It was you who hit it first."

"At least I didn't invoke the dark arts."

"There was nothing dark about it at all!"

"So you say. You were the one with the instruction book. For all I know, you were reading the Japanese version. Possibly backwards."

Wesley blinked and couldn't help but look down at the paper in his hands, a guilty flush to his cheeks. "I was not! How dare you-"

"Guys!" Both of them looked at her. "Mess. Clean it up." And she turned and left, flinging over her shoulder, "And I'll want those wet files retyped by morning."

-o-o-o-


	3. Flies

Flies  
By Gumnut

It was the scent that lured them in. Sweet, sickly, liquid iron and it glistened in the shadows, smears of darkness sharpened by a street lamp. They hovered, buzzing, singing their praises, darting down to land on flesh.

They lapped at the blood denied him.

He had tried.

Despite the curse, he had tried.

And failed.

The boy's laughter had grated on his soul, reminding him of exactly who and what he was. Innocence in his arms. The scent of supple skin, the touch of it on his lips, and the warmth he desperately craved swelling vessels, asking to be taken.

But he couldn't.

The little boy had squirmed in his arms, delighted at the thought of play. His giggled questions had taunted him, more so enraged him, and he had flung the boy away, his small feet hitting the grit of the alleyway and stumbling as the vampire flung himself from the scene, hating himself for both his potence and his impotence.

His unlife teased and taunted, and existence was pain.

That he happened upon the boy again was mere chance.

Dead eyes. Cold lips. Drying skin dented by grit, his vacant expression limp against the cobblestones.

Blood in the shadows.

The vampire stared at it, was mesmerised. Taken by another. Discarded by another. Sweet life stolen despite his own denial. Justice and injustice warred for his soul and he was the casualty.

And as the sun rose, forcing him to shelter, the first of the flies came.

They came and they buzzed. They settled on the remains and drank what he could not.

Could not.

Huddled in the shadows, he wondered what it was he had become.

-o-o-o-


	4. Nature

Nature  
By Gumnut

It is their nature.

They do not think. They do not care. You are no more than food in their eyes. Delicacies paraded for their choosing. They lust for the feel of your blood in their throats, hot and warm. They exist for nothing more.

And they will come. And they will feed. And there is nothing you can do about it.

Don't look into their eyes and feel pity for them, for they won't feel it for you. They may laugh, they may toy with you, dance a little dance, teasing you with what remains of your life, but never believe it, never fall for it.

It comes down to you or them.

She is no longer the woman you knew and there is only one thing you can do. And if you can't, then I will.

-o-o-o-


End file.
